


To Succeed

by jellfish



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Is a Good Bro, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Fluff, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gen, M/M, Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, RK900 is protective of his bro, Sort Of, eventual protective Gavin Reed, focus on family relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellfish/pseuds/jellfish
Summary: It’s a bond Connor. They’re family—I know you have Hank but I thought you’d appreciate the chance to get to know him at the very least, and I know he could probably do with someone looking out for him when he wakes up, especially someone who shares as many similarities as you. You’re under no obligation to agree of course, but I wanted to ask you first. What do you say?Connor mulls the word family for a few moments, a familiar warmth spreading as he thinks of Hank and Sumo. He could havemorefamily? More of this warmth? His lips twitch into a smile.I’d like that very much.Otherwise known as: family can be 2 androids, a dog, a jaded Police Lieutenant and 49 stick insects.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Quick back story here: I'm 5k works into the next chapter of my DEH fic (not that anyone cares) and it is super heavy writing. Me and my partner recently suffered a personal loss, and right now I'm wanting to write something lighter, something uplifting, family orientated. So this is it! My palate cleanser of a fic that I also am super excited about because what I want to do here is explore various scenarios with Connor finding his family. I've tagged Gavin/Connor as with what I have in mind it is the most likely relationship to appear and I don't want to spring it on anyone, but this is going to focus much more deeply on familial relationships for Connor; if needed or depending on the climate of the fic (I don't want to contain it too much, this is for fun!) I'll make a side fic with more Convin focus, but it may just fit into this fic naturally...I mean I'm not a fan of canon Reed, so expect his redemption to be long and gruelling.
> 
> Key points: following a pacifist run where Hank kindly (selfishly?) allowed Connor to stay and as of yet he just...hasn't...left.
> 
> ANYWAY, here is the prologue of sorts, an introduction to what will hopefully be a wholesome ride...there will no doubt be some future whump or angst but nothing too heavy (I'm just a fan of the comfort that comes afterwards aaaahhh)
> 
> Enjoy!

Connor was out when he received the call. He’d been walking Sumo, as he did every evening; the familiarity was soothing and more often than not he found Hank joining them. The two often found themselves a bench within the park, allowing Sumo a brief respite from his leash whilst they sat and spoke, occasionally throwing a highly chewed tennis ball for Sumo to fetch. Well, Hank threw the tennis ball; Connor had severely misjudged the distance that was acceptable for such an act ( _“for fuck sake he’s a dog Connor, not a fucking cheetah!”_ ) and since then Hank was reluctant to relinquish ‘ball duty’ ( _“It was a brand new ball Connor, I'm not buying a fucking supply!”)._

In fact Hank was in the middle of throwing said ball, when he’d felt the gentle hum at the back of his mind. He recognises immediately Markus’ soft attempt to open a line of communication and without thought he accepts.

_Markus_

He replies internally in greeting; he’d learnt the hard way that others (especially humans) responded oddly when he spoke aloud with these types of communication. Hank had called it ‘a little creepy’.

**Connor, it’s been a while. How are you?**

Connor represses a smile (people also found it creepy when you smiled to yourself apparently); Markus was always so kind and sincere to speak to, and though he wasn’t physically hearing his voice he could still sense that sincerity through their line of communication.

_Indeed it has been some time. I am well thank you, and yourself? How did the recent proceedings progress?_

In the 12 months following the uprising it had been tense, the relationships between Jericho, the government and the DPD precariously balanced. More recently Markus had been working towards negotiations with Cyberlife, but it had been laborious. 

**We've made some progress. They've agreed to release all remaining androids, but they’re still holding the production of spare parts over our heads.**  
Connor can sense the frustration through the link, coiled like a spring. 

_That’s still progress though! Did they give any indication of when they’d be released?_

Connor attempts to inject as much enthusiasm through the link as he can; the annoyance Markus is clearly feeling vibrates through like a scratch, and he wants nothing more than to wipe it away. It works to some degree if the amusement and appreciation sent back is any indication. 

**Yes actually, that’s why…**

“Connor?”

Connor turns his head to face Hank, momentarily ignoring Markus as he meets the Lieutenant’s concerned expression.

“Yes Hank?” he replies, adjusting quickly to verbal communication. He sends a hurried explanation to Markus that he is speaking to Hank and feels a thrum of understanding in reply. 

“You alright? You having one of your…chats?” Hank points to Connor’s LED and Connor resists the urge to reach up and touch it.

“Yes, Markus is just letting me know how the recent negotiations went.” 

“Oh okay…good news?” Hank seems wary, searching his face for expression. Connor nods.

“Very. They've agreed to release the remaining androids,” he can’t help but smile as he says this, the thought of progress warm and comforting. 

“Jesus, they still had androids? Thought you managed to free ‘em all in your rescue mission,” 

Connor smiles more widely at the terminology. Since the event Hank had been very insistent in referring to it as a ‘rescue mission’; Connor’s guilt from his actions prior to deviating were severe and weighed heavily on his mind. Hank had found him one evening a couple of weeks after their reunion, his back against the kitchen counter, LED blaring red, methodically tearing kitchen-roll into a neat pile. 

He’d been gentle as he’d asked what was wrong, knees cracking as he’d knelt awkwardly beside him. Connor remembers it had felt like a flood, as he’d finally told the other man about how guilty he felt, how confused and overwhelmed he’d felt without orders to follow, how the only emotion he could accurately identify was fear, and that was only because he felt it _all the time_. 

Hank had sat beside him, discussing his fears, validating his concerns but insisting that what he had done since deviating was _good_ , insisting that he’d _rescued_ those androids from the warehouse, he’d helped Markus and Jericho succeed with his rescue. It had helped in the moment, helped quell his guilt, and ever since Hank had continued phrasing it as such. Months down the line he was still (as he had learned to identify) anxious. Some days, ‘bad days’ he’d refer to them as, he’d feel an anxiety, a sadness so visceral he’d wish he didn't feel at all. 

He found himself tearing things, touching things, tapping things, the repetitive motion subconscious but soothing. He’d also since felt amusement, happiness, disgust, joy, a whole myriad of emotions that were hard to navigate, but that reaffirmed that he was _here_ , that he was _alive_ and when that warm and safe sensation he’d come to recognise as ‘happiness’ hit, it was like every other sensation was worth it because _that_ feeling felt so good.

“Connor?”

“I apologise Hank, it appears I was experiencing ‘nostalgia’ again,” Connor replies, focusing once more on the Lieutenant. Hank smiles fondly, shaking his head.

“S’fine kid, just maybe not in the middle of a conversation?”

“Noted,” Connor replies, nodding “and in reply to your previous question, no I did not rescue every android, unfortunately. I'm not certain of the specifics, only that Markus was recently informed that there were inactive androids still in Cyberlife’s…custody.”

His smile slips away at the thought, another thought creeping in to remind him that he’d failed to save these androids. 

“You didn't know about them son,” Hanks tone is unyielding, leaving to room to argue. Connor mouth quirks slightly. 

“I wasn't aware you possessed the ability to read minds Lieutenant,” he attempts to joke. Hank scoffs, clapping a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Don’t need to read minds Connor, I know _you_. You couldn't have done anything, hell you didn't even know they existed.”

“I…I know,” Connor relents, swallowing despite having no physical need to; a human quirk he’d picked up that served as a comfort when anxious or scared.

“Anyway, is that all he had to say?” as Hank asks this Connor realises he’d forgotten about Markus; the connection is still open and he can sense nothing but patience from the other man but he’s still hit with a rush of embarrassment. 

“No, he had something he wished to tell me but I told him to wait whilst I spoke to you,” Connor replies, and the mortification must be clear on his face as Hank begins to laugh.

“Really Connor? You put robo-jesus on hold for the last five minutes?”

“I didn’t mean to! Please stop laughing at me,” he can feel his face falling into what Hank calls a ‘pout’ and at this Hank laughs harder. Ignoring this, he decides to continue his discussion with Markus.

_Markus I'm so sorry, I was…distracted._

**It’s fine Connor, don’t worry about it. Is the Lieutenant well?**

Connor looks briefly to his cackling companion, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

_He’s fine. What was it that you wanted to ask?_

**Straight to the point as per usual Connor**

Connor would feel self-conscious, however the amusement travelling through the link makes it very obvious the other man is teasing. 

_Of course_ Connor replies, matching Markus’ tone.

**So like I said, they’re releasing the androids that they still have captive. They’re not activated yet which is why there was so much…difficulty getting them to agree as they were trying to argue that as they weren't activated they weren't sentient. However as a show of good faith they've finally agreed.**

_What do they want in return?_

Connor can practically hear Markus chuckle.

**That’s exactly what I thought. Actually it appears that Elijah Kamski may have had something to do with the decision.**  
Connors eyes narrow as he thinks of his encounter with the man.

_Kamski? But why would he be involving himself now?_

**I'm not sure, only that he’s been involved in discussions and that they’re freeing them at his request. He may be returning to the company.**

_I'm not sure we can trust him…he seems to follow his own agenda and I'm not certain it will align with our own._

**We will be wary Connor, don’t worry. The reason I was contacting you was to make you aware…**

He trails off, and Connor can sense his trepidation, as though preparing how to continue.

**They sent us an inventory of the androids still captive…**

Connor shares Markus’s distaste at the idea of an inventory, a reminder they were still very much viewed as machines.

**…with a brief description of each. It’s…insulting I'm not going to lie, however we noticed that one of the androids they mention is…well they’re an RK900.**

_An…RK900?_

**They’re described as your upgrade, or at least the next in your series line. I was wondering if you’d want to be present when they were activated?**

Connor isn't exactly sure how to feel at the idea that whilst he was under Cyberlife’s control they were building his replacement. They must be his replacement, had they expected him to fail? He was after all only a prototype. 

_Why?_ he asks simply, and Markus must feel his hesitance as he’s quick to reply.

**I understand why you might be reluctant, but it looks like he has many similarities at least in terms of your programming. I thought perhaps, with him being of the same series, the two of you could be considered…brothers.**

Connor ignores the sheepishness hovering through the link, instead running an internal search for the word he’d never before considered with himself in context.

Brother: Noun  
Plural Noun: Brothers:  
1\. A male who has the same parents as another or one parent in common with another.

_We cannot be related Markus, we do not have biological parents._

**Nor do I share any relation to Leo, but he’s still my brother, as trying as he is.**

Connor expands his search, finding more fittingly the description ‘one of a type similar to another’.

_We are the same…type. I suppose that_ would _make us brothers…_

As though sensing his hesitance Markus continues.

**It’s a bond Connor. They’re family—I know you have Hank but I thought you’d appreciate the chance to get to know him at the very least, and I know he could probably do with someone looking out for him when he wakes up, especially someone who shares as many similarities as you. You’re under no obligation to agree of course, but I wanted to ask you first. What do you say?**

Connor mulls the word family for a few moments, a familiar warmth spreading as he thinks of Hank and Sumo. He could have _more_ family? More of this warmth? His lips twitch into a smile.

_I’d like that very much._

* * *

Hank reaches for his beer, ignoring the heated gaze from the android at his side. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead taking an exaggerated gulp. Screw him, it was his first drink in days and after tonight it was really fucking needed. 

Connor had spent the last few hours asking question after question about siblings; brother’s, sister’s, you name it he asked it. He’d excitedly relayed that Markus was apparently giving him a brother (and wow if that wasn't a weird sentence to think about) and sure it had been cute enough watching him talk about it excitedly, gesticulating wildly as he spoke about ‘bonds’ and other things Hank had learned not to question. It wasn't so cute hours later when he was _still talking about it_.

“…many different examples of it in the media, some of which seem highly confusing,”

“Yup. Family can be,” Hank replies, tuning back into the other man, though his gaze is fixed firmly on the television.

“Hank…may I ask a personal question?” 

Hank rolls his eyes, turning to face the other man's troubled expression. God he’s like a puppy sometimes; there’s such a dichotomy between the android before him, who’s sat with knees drawn up to his chest, clad in Mickey Mouse pyjamas, to the man he’s seen chase down a suspect without breaking a sweat. It’s hard to reconcile the two.

“Let’s just skip to the part where you ask the question regardless if I say yes or no,” Hank replies, waving a hand in gesture to ‘hurry up’.

“You mentioned once in the past that you had a sister…what is it like?” 

Ignoring the bad feelings that claw up his throat, and at the soft expression on Connor’s face, Hank bites down a defensive reply.

“Jeez Connor…look, we’re not a good example of a healthy sibling relationship. I've not spoken to her in years,” he has another hurried swig. Connor looks thoughtful.

“Let me phrase it differently then: what is it like _being_ a brother?” he stares at Hank as he asks this, the TV light dancing across his face. Hank sighs, running a hand hastily through his beard.

“It’s…hard to explain. It’s something I've always been so it’s like asking like what breathing’s like. I don’t know what it’s not like.”

“I see,” Hank watches Connor’s face fall. It’s funny how expressive he is since deviating. Even if he didn't still have his LED, Hank would still know exactly how he felt by his face. Not the greatest skill for a negotiator to have admittedly, but it was heart-warming to see him so expressive. Besides, he hadn't been doing as much Police work as he’d have liked due to the delicate balance that was working as a sentient android; Markus was still in the process of ironing out the legalities in respect to pay and other work place policies. 

It had taken a lot of convincing from Connor (and Hank) to both parties, both Jericho and the DPD to let him back into the department, and even now there were a lot of grey areas. It was what Connor had wanted though, and Hank had fought tooth and nail to get him back into Police work. It wasn't perfect; fairness regarding application required him taking unnecessary tests (which he completed with 100% accuracy), and there was a debate about him working through rank. 

Hank however, had requested him as a partner and Fowler couldn't deny that the kid got results, so they were able to continue their partnership after a few months of restlessness but it was on a part time basis to Hank’s annoyance. To ‘settle in’ he’d been told, to test the waters. Bullshit. Either way Connor had jumped at the opportunity to work again, in any capacity. Hank wishes he’d taken a photo of Reed’s face when he’d seen Connor walk into the bullpen for the very first time; it was a magical moment. Either way, a year following the uprising the kid’s face was a better mood ring than his LED.

“I guess being a brother’s like…someone is always there. Shit, they may not agree with you, and you may have your differences, but I know if I called…she’d be there,” he trails off into his can. Connor nods.

“An unbreakable bond.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Hank…” Connor sounds unsure, and sure enough his face is troubled. Hank gives him a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Do you— do you think I’ll be a good brother?” he asks. Hanks first reaction is to laugh because, how in the hell had he ever thought this guy didn't feel. He quickly changes it to an exaggerated cough (that the kid clearly doesn't buy).

“Connor, the fact you’re even asking that means you’ll be a good brother,” he says finally after his ‘coughing’ fit.

“Why?” Connor asks, his brows furrowed, LED spinning amber.

“Because you care enough that it’s bothering you. You give a shit about doing a good job, so you’re clearly doing something right…just try to relax okay? You’ll meet the guy and get to know him, and go from there, okay?” 

Hank’s still concerned about the fact Connor’s now this hung up on someone he’s _never met_ , and he’s hoping beyond hope the guy will go along with the whole brother thing. Hank doesn't want to have to punch someone who’s only been alive five minutes, but if he rebuffs him now he’s so hung up on the idea of it, it’ll break his heart. And if so tough shit; hurt Connor, get hit. Markus too, for suggesting the whole thing. He’d deal with the repercussions after. 

“Hank?” 

“Yeah?” Hank continues as though he hadn't been planning to assault his future brother.

“Could we perhaps watch a film? Whilst I was researching the topic of ‘siblings’ I came across one cited as an example of a good brotherly relationship,”

“Sure, what is it?” Hank shrugs.

“It was called Big Hero 6, and I believe…”

“Nope! Not that film, let’s choose another,” Hank hastily interrupts. He’d made the mistake of watching ‘Up!’ with the kid, then had to deal with his distress ten minutes into the movie ( _“I’m sad, but I don’t know_ why Hank…it’s not happening to me but it feels _like it’s happening to me!”_ ). He was not taking any chances.

Connor pauses, eyes closed. Hank assumes he’s searching online.

“There isn't a very wide selection of films focusing on sibling relationships that I can see…” 

Hank nearly rolls his eyes, more than aware that this means there’s not many _animated_ films of the genre. Connor had become increasingly picky in what he chose to watch, and when it was his turn Hank could guarantee it would be animated. 2D, CGI, it didn't matter, he just seemed to prefer it over real life acting. When Hank had questioned him, he’d been defensive ( _“I’m not a child Hank—there’s just something about it—each character was designed from scratch, each frame of this was_ made _and there’s something beautiful about that”_ ). It had been an oddly poetic thing for the android to say, and Hank couldn't disagree.

He grits his teeth.

“Tell you what, why don’t we watch Frozen again. It’s not brothers but uh, it’s got a good sibling relationship in it, right? That what you after?” he suggests, somewhat awkwardly. Connor’s face lights up.

“Of course! I’d not been focussing on the aspect when we watched it last, but I’ll make sure to pay more attention to it this time round Hank. Thank you!” he replies happily, lopsided smile wide.

Fuck it, if it makes him that happy then Hank will put up with having ‘Let it Go’ in his head for another week. They watch the film (again), but Hank finds himself more interested in the expressions flashing across Connor’s face; the way his head bobs slightly to the music, and how he chuckles lightly under his breath make him want to reach out and ruffle the kids hair or something. He resists, instead sipping his diet coke ( _“You've already had a beer tonight Lieutenant!”_ ) his free hand giving Sumo a lazy stroke.

It’s only as he’s lying in bed in the early hours of the morning that he jolts awake with the realisation. Where is this fucking brother going to stay?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor prep to meet RK900 and Connor sees his bro for the first time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOO expect lots of Hank, Connor and Markus interactions this chapter as they plan how to manage the RK900 situation...sorry if this feels like more of a filler chapter, but I want you guys to get a glimpse into Connor and Hank's dynamic and I can never help sprinkling extra info through out for that delicious world building taste ;)  
> Also, thank you shapeshiftinterest for mentioning Brother Bear as a good sibling feels film! I included it subtly this chapter so thanks for that (｡◕‿◕｡✿)
> 
> Enjoy guys!

Hank sips his coffee, relishing the intense taste as he attempts to eat. It was difficult to do, what with Connor flitting throughout the house haphazardly tidying and moving things. He just sighs, letting him get on with it. He’d stopped him briefly a few minutes prior, asking what was on his mind. Connor had just replied that he was nervous, then immediately began sorting through the cutlery drawer.

To be honest Hank could have guessed how he was feeling; his anxiety and nervousness tended to manifest in motion whether he be wringing his hands, or pacing the house, though he’d only ever seen him this obviously nervous a few times prior, and never in such a way. He was moving things throughout the kitchen, only to go back and move them to their original place a couple minutes later. It was a little odd, he wasn't going to lie.

“Sure you’re alright?” he prompts once more as it become apparent the android wasn't going to stop. Although the other man continues to rifle through the drawer, he turns to face Hank with a thoughtful expression.

“As well as nervous I think I may also be a bit – excited?” a small smile appears, and Hank nods.

“That’s normal Con, you’re meeting the guy who might be your brother.”

He was careful not to use definitive language, still wary of the new androids reaction. He didn't want to get Connor’s hopes too high. Still, he had continued to indulge the other man’s obsession with siblings the past few nights; they’d watched Brother Bear which Connor had enjoyed even though Hank was certain after the ‘UP!’ debacle that it may be too…sad. Connor had reassured him he was fine, and reminded him that he dealt with death plenty of times working with the Police (which had left Hank feeling a little sheepish). He has to admit that ‘UP!’ is an extreme example, and the android _had_ watched it very soon after deviating. Maybe he was becoming more accustomed to his emotions…

Connor drops a fork. Maybe not. 

“I haven’t got enough data to predict an outcome of today’s events with any level of accuracy,” –he picks up the fork fluidly, as though he hadn't be the one to drop it– “I suppose I'm just being hopeful in assuming things will go well, but the lack of data does make me anxious. I – I guess I just want him to like me.” 

His LED is blaring red and his face scrunched with distress.

“Aww Connor, he’s going to love you. And if he doesn't he’s a dick. Trust me,” – Hank raises a hand to stop the other man’s inevitable protest – “who doesn't like you? That you know personally,” he hastily adds this on, aware that many androids held a lingering resentment over his prior occupation.

“Perhaps…Detective Reed? Although more recently he has appeared to become far less hostile in my presence, and last week he even thanked me for passing him a document, although I suspect it may have been accidental,” Connor replies, LED now pulsing orange as he thinks. 

“Okay ignoring his recent guilt fuelled mid-life crisis he’s still an asshole. The only people who have got to know you and not liked you are class A dicks, okay? So either this guy will be a normal guy and end up loving you, or he won’t and he’s a dick.” 

“Despite disagreeing with several points you've made, your attempt to reassure me has certainly made me feel – better. Thank you Hank,” he replies, LED now blue, smile lopsided. 

“Also, I know I have already thanked you for offering your home to RK900, but I would like to do so again,” he continues. Hank shrugs.

“Don’t thank me yet, he’s only staying here if he’s _not_ a dick,” that is if he isn't a dick to Connor. He doesn't need to say this aloud, he knows the other man is aware that he’d offered his house to the new droid under the condition he went along with Connor’s brother idea, or at the very least treated him with respect.

“I'm sure he will be grateful, and that he also won’t be a dick,” Connor replies; Hank smothers a grin at the awkward phrasing. It wasn't like Connor never swore, on the contrary when he was stressed it was almost a guarantee to hear the occasional ‘fuck’. It was rare however that he swore correctly, despite it coming from a natural reaction is very rarely sounded natural, instead sounding like he was reading from a script. Badly. 

“Yup. Anyway it’s your room he’ll be staying in mostly, not mine so…” Hank trails off, gesturing vaguely.

Hank was referring to the garage; he’d basically given the android free reign over it, arguing he never parked his car there anyway (way too much hassle). Connor had been ecstatic (once Hank had convinced him it was no bother anyway) and he’d converted it into his own little haven. It was cute. He hadn't initially wanted to get a bed ( _“Lying down like that will make the thirium pool awkwardly throughout my bio-component’s Hank,”_ ) but after Hank found him lying in stasis on his couch he’d eventually admitted to wanting one ( _“I will admit there is a certain relaxing quality to it…”_ ).

“Will the guy even have any room in there, what with all your stuff?” Hank teases. It’s not even an unreasonable question, the sheer amount of…stuff, Connor had managed to pack into the room was impressive. He’d taken to collecting things, like a freaking magpie. It was like with the understanding he could actually have his own possessions, he went a bit haywire and it made Hank’s heart ache at the sheer excitement the android had shown for his knick-knacks. 

“I shall install a shelf if necessary. Perhaps more than one,” Connor replies, after some deliberation. Hank’s proud he hasn't asked for permission (if he needs to remind the kid that it’s _his_ room and he can do what he like with it _again_ …well he won’t do anything really, just feel a bit sad).

“Yeah, you do that.” 

“And you also said it would be alright for him to rest on the couch whilst I made accommodations.”

“Yup, that I did.”

“He may not even wish to use the couch whilst in stasis.”

“Well if he’s not then he can stay in your room, okay? I'm not having him stand like some creepy wax statue in my living room,” Hank huffs, remember the early days of finding Connor standing immobile in the corners of his house. It was fucking creepy. 

“Of course Hank. This is all assuming he will wish to stay with me,” Connor says. He sounds nervous again and Hank sighs.

“If he does, he does. If he doesn't it just means you’ll have more room for your…things. Okay?” 

Connor just smiles slightly, nodding. 

“Right, well I'm going to get ready, you gonna be okay out here?” Hank asks, walking over to rinse his now clear plate.

“I think so. I also need to dress,” he replies, gesturing down as his pyjamas. Hanks snorts.

“Yeah, you might want to change.”

Truth be told Hank is vaguely looking forward to seeing what Connor chooses to wear. Since deviating, (and since realising it wasn't a sin to want or own things of his own) Connor had compiled a rather…unusual collection of clothes. He didn't seem to have any set style as such, instead liking things for their texture and occasionally their colour (he went through a stage of pastels, but it was often bright garish prints that drew him in). He’d explained how although he didn't feel in the same way as a human, he still recognised different textures, and he’d developed a preference for softer materials.

As such, he had a large collection of obnoxiously patterned pullovers and oddly enough a more recent obsession with yoga pants ( _“they are a lot more effective to run in Hank, my speed has increased by 1.7 percent!”_ ). It was initially toned down at work; he often wore more traditionally professional outfits, however during his early ‘bad days’ he found comfort in his softer clothing and Hank had convinced him that they’d be fine to wear at the office. 

Not like anyone would give a shit. It had went fine (bar a few odd looks that Hank had met with a fierce glare) and not even Reed had said anything (though he did look close to spitting his coffee out when he’d first saw the android). Since then he seemed to wear whatever took his fancy that day, and it wasn't like he ever looked _bad_ (though Hank could guarantee if it was anyone else wearing it, they’d look terrible).

Connor managed to pull off the eclectic mix of clothes, hell he made them look _good_ , and if anything it made him look less deadly which only ever worked to their advantage, either when they caught suspects off guard or when Connor genuinely tried to engage with others.

“You should shower Hank.”

“I’ll have one later,” he dismisses, pulled from his odd clothes related musings. Connor faces him, expression imploring.

“It’s been three days,” he says, fucking puppy dog expression out in full. Half the time Hank wonders if the kid even knows he’s doing it, other times he’s certain it’s tactical.

“Fucking fine,” he concedes, ignoring the other’s bright (smug) smile. He’s been getting better at personal care but still, habits are hard to beat.

He showers, dressing quickly and avoiding his bedraggled reflection, walking into the living room to find Connor practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“Do I look okay Hank?” he asks, expression vulnerable. Hank gives him a quick once over and is pleased to see he’s not in anything particularly garish (not that he can talk). He’s in a smart lilac shirt, a warm looking jacket and dark jeans.

“You look great Con, I'm sure you’ll make a great first impression,” he replies, seeing though the other’s worries immediately. Connor appears to relax, relief palpable.

“I'm glad,” he says, walking towards where Sumo is sat in the corner of the room, and Hank has to stifle his laughter as he realises the android is wearing his light up sneakers. So much for smart. He doesn't say anything however, just snickers into his hand. He remembers how funny it had been when Connor had first bought them, but at the other’s enthusiasm he’d never said anything. It would be hypocritical of him anyway, his taste was terrible (and he knew it). 

“We need to leave in approximately ten minutes in order to meet Markus on time,” Connor says over his shoulder, leaning down in order to pet Sumo.

“Yeah yeah, I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready.”

“As much as I’d like to take your word Hank, you've been late leaving the house 82% of the time since I've been here,” Connor is smiling slyly at this, digging his fingers into the large dog’s fur. 

“Screw you Connor,” Hank replies, but he concedes, walking towards his shoe rack and grabbing a well-worn pair. 

They leave the house ten minutes late, but it’s not Hank’s fault if Sumo knocked over his water bowl after a particularly enthusiastic lunge. If anything it’s Connor’s fault for riling him up. When they finally set off, heading towards New-Jericho headquarters Connor’s nerves are back and Hank has to admit, he’s beginning to feel anxious himself.

* * *

Connor couldn't help but wriggle in his seat, knee jiggling in time to the music. He rolls his coin over his knuckles in an attempt to distract himself. It wasn't really working. The re-enforced handcuffs stashed neatly in his jacket pocket jangle slightly, but he was trying to ignore them, hoping they wouldn't be needed. 

He’d never felt such an unusual mix of anxiety and excitement, and the lack of concrete evidence only amplified this. Objectively it was fascinating; new emotions always were and it retrospect he relished each time he recognised a new feeling. At the time however it was always terrifying, especially after he’d just deviated, when he’d found it hard to express and recognise emotion. He’d taken to talking it through with Hank if he was unsure, voicing aloud how he felt in order to understand it better, and now he was in the habit of voicing his emotions whenever he felt them. He’ll never forget the look on Hank’s face when he’d walked over to his desk, perched neatly, and declared (loudly) that he felt sad.

He kept reflexively checking his self-tasked main objectives; the only things there were ‘MEET RK900 (BROTHER?)’ and ‘MAKE HANK HAPPY, KEEP HANK SAFE’ (an objective he’d added shortly after deviating fully, one he doubted he’d be removing anytime soon). There were lesser prioritised sub-tasks, but they were minimised so he could focus on his main objectives.

He was always nervous when going to New-Jericho, so that wasn't new. It always seemed to justify his guilt, to see the people there recognise him; their fear, or at least their hesitance was obvious. Well, half the androids there feared him. The other half he’d freed himself, and they held him to a reverence comparable only to Markus himself. It was uncomfortable to be looked at with what Hank had described as ‘hero worship’. He didn't deserve it; in a way the angry stares were more comfortable to bare. Still uncomfortable, but more so were the positive reactions; part of him felt he _deserved_ to be looked at with hostility. Either way he avoided all interaction if possible, meeting Markus and co. elsewhere if he could help it. The other’s recognised his reluctance and often accommodated him, which he always thought was more than he deserved.

“Quick question Con, why are we going NJ anyway?” Hank asks, turning the music to a more tolerable level, and Connor turns from where he’d been staring blankly. 

“Markus briefly explained that a majority of the androids in custody have already been woken, but the ones that remain, (including RK900) had been moved to New-Jericho as soon as they were able – Markus did not want them to be on Cyberlife’s property any longer than necessary.”

“Makes sense I guess.”

“Markus also explained that RK900 in particular needed to be at a more secure location…” Connor trails off, unsure how best to word Markus’s concerns. Hank looks over briefly.

“Because…?” he prompts. 

“Markus is concerned that some of Cyberlife’s programming may contain his original objectives. We’re not sure exactly what they are, if they’re there at all, as we do not know at what point he was created, however considering he is an upgraded version of myself…”

“Yeah, I'm guessing they don’t want a non-deviant killing machine waking up unsupervised…er, no offense Con.” Hank winces as he corrects himself. Connor smiles sadly.

“None taken Hank, we both know my original programming was responsible for my actions, and yes you are correct. It is safer for him to wake in a more controlled environment with myself present…just in case.”

“So Markus’s brother idea was what? An excuse to get you there in case the guy is dangerous?” Hank asks, an edge to his voice. Connor thinks back to the more recent conversation he’d had with the leader, where he’d confessed to some ulterior motive.

“Yes and no. It is of course safer with me there; although being my upgrade, he will no doubt have more…advanced capabilities, I am still the most qualified to manage the situation should it go awry. Markus did reiterate however that he was sincere in his wish for me to have the opportunity to experience brotherhood,” he’s aware his LED is likely red at the thought that RK900 will be his upgrade, evidence that he failed, that he is obsolete. He reminds himself that it is not RK900’s fault, that he isn't obsolete, and thinks back to the warming idea of more family. He shouldn't be jealous, he should be _proud_.

“Metal messiah or not Connor, if he’s been manipulating you…”

“He’s not. I could sense his sincerity when we spoke Hank, the added security is just an extra reason why my presence is beneficial,” Connor interrupts what would no doubt have been a threat. Hank hums, clearly not deterred, and the rest of the drive is spent in silence. 

Connor was trying to remain optimistic; he’d avoided thinking of the potential risks since Markus had made contact for the second time that week, but now they seemed to be all he could think of. What if RK900 had mission directives to kill Markus, or even Connor himself? What if he – what if he had Amanda? That was perhaps his greatest fear, he doubted Cyberlife would have programmed RK900 to kill him as they’d surely have assumed he’d of allowed himself to be disassembled. He’d only really shown (obvious) signs of deviancy at the very end, they’d of had no suspicions surely. No, he was more concerned that RK900 would have Amanda, or at the least a similar AI; he shudders when thinking of her observing and controlling his thoughts and actions. He’d wish it on no-one, especially not someone he was considering potential family.

He was still wrapped in his thoughts as they entered the building, snapping out only to wish the receptionist Chris a good morning. They were one of the androids he saw more frequently (as he often manned the front desk), and one of the few whom treat Connor normally (or as normal as possible). He smiles at him, turning only when he hears Markus’s voice.

“Connor, Lieutenant I'm glad to see you’re well?” Markus rises from one of the seats. Connor is almost embarrassed to see he’d waited for them in reception, but he’s more grateful than anything; he found less hostility when walking with the leader than when he walked alone (or with Hank).

“We’re good thank you Markus, and yourself?” Connor replies as it becomes clear Hank will not; it’s clear his metaphorical hackles are thoroughly raised.

“I'm feeling much better now Cyberlife have released the remaining androids,” Markus says, leading the two through the lobby. Markus’s eyes flicker down to his flashing sneakers for just a second, and Connor can see his expression change to something close to amusement (is he trying not to smile?), but he doesn't say anything. Connor ignores this, instead walking more closely as they walk towards the elevators. 

Hank appears to be taking in the clean interior, begrudgingly impressed. Connor can’t blame him, last time he’d been here it had practically in disrepair; the only building they’d been permitted to own shortly after the uprising had been large but insultingly run down. As soon as they had moved in, the residents had worked renovating and repairing the building and it was incredible to see the changes in place.

“How are they settling in?” Connor asks politely. Markus smiles as they enter the newly working elevators. 

“Great actually. Better than we’d thought considering, but of course I awoke them so…” he gestures vaguely. Connor narrows his eyes.

“You forced deviation on them?” he asks. Markus looks a little taken back. 

“Well, yes. I awoke them,” he says; it sounds close to a reprimand. Of course, they’d been referring to it as awakening not deviation for a while now. Connor preferred the original definition; they were deviating from their code, it wasn't a bad thing. 

“You didn't ask them?” 

“No? We didn't want them confined to their programming any longer than necessary,” Markus attempts to explain. 

“I don’t want that to happen to RK900,” Connor replies slowly. 

“What do you mean?” Markus asks; he sounds genuinely confused. 

“I don’t want him forced into anything, even if that includes deviation. He needs a choice, if he wants to deviate then I can help him,” he replies, flexing a hand as though in demonstration. 

“Connor, you sure that’s a good idea? You said earlier he might have some old objectives or something,” Hank asks. He sounds concerned, despite his nonchalant expression. Connor shakes his head.

“I will not force him. I will explain to him to merits of deviation, but I will not do anything against his wishes.” He won’t be another Amanda. 

“And if he _is_ violent?” Markus inquires, expression blank. 

“Then I will deal with it as non-fatally as I can. I wasn't a mindless machine before my deviation Markus, and neither were you. I could listen to reason and he is of the same series. I will try to talk to him. I've thought this through Markus, ever since you’d contacted me with your further concerns,” Connor affirms. He’s still hoping it will go well, that he can expand his family, but he isn't so blind to what can go wrong. 

Markus pauses a moment, debating. If his LED were still in place, no doubt it would be flashing red. 

“Okay Connor we can try it that way. Though if he’s violent you understand that we may _need_ to force deviation. We may not be able to reason with him if he’s still confined to his coding.”

“Only if there is no other way Markus. I want that as a last resort,” Connor concedes. The elevator comes to a stop, and as the doors open Markus nods. 

“Of course.”

They step out into the hallway, tall glass windows allowing a clear view of the city below. Connor walks as close to the wall as possible, averting his gaze; since falling from the rooftop during his first mission, heights have been an ever present phobia. He turns to Hank as they walk.

“Aren't you glad they've fixed the elevator?” he asks, smirking. Hank wrinkles his nose.

“If you’re referring to the first time we came here then yes. Yes I am,” he replies haughtily. They’d been forced to climb the multiple stairways when visiting the first few times, the elevator being out of order. Connor had been fine. Hank on the other hand had looked close to cardiac arrest. 

“It was good exercise Hank.”

“I don’t _need_ exercise, not now I'm running after you, making sure you don’t lick a fucking puddle.”

“It was _one_ time Hank.” 

“One time _too many_.”

“It was a _crime scene_.”

“Yeah well…” before Hank can continue, he’s interrupted by Markus, who stops in front of an unassuming door. 

“He’s in here. This room is – well let’s just say it’s hard to get in or out of,” he reaches out a hand, interfacing with the lock. It slides open and he walks inside, continuing to talk. “It’s the safest room for this to happen; Simon suggested a room similar to a panic room and although I didn't initially agree with its need, it’s definitely come in handy.”

They follow into the room and Connor glances round; it’s spacious, equipped with a desk, a comfy looking sofa and a monitor. A quick glance confirms a surveillance of just outside the room displayed upon the screen. He comes to a total stop as he spots RK900. He’s standing completely still, in the centre of the room. He wasn't expecting someone so visually similar.

“Markus…did you know we looked this alike?” he asks slowly. Markus laughs.

“Not at all – I had a hunch, but until last night I had no idea what he looked like. They didn't bother including photos on the invoice.”

Connor rakes his eyes over the android, scanning his features. He’s alerted to the fact that the other man is taller by 3.4 inches, bringing him to a height of around 6 foot four. His face is almost identical to Connor’s, slightly wider and more defined in the jaw, and his overall size and stature seems to have increased, but it’s like looking at his twin. He looks down and his eyes narrow in distaste at the white Cyberlife uniform, and wait… is that dust?

“Well this is creepy.”

“Thank you Hank for your riveting commentary,” Connor replies mildly, stepping towards RK900, hand outstretched.

“Connor wait!” Markus reaches forward, as though to pull him back. He stops as what Connor is doing becomes apparent.

“My scans indicated a thin layer of dust,” he replies, continuing to lightly brush the dust away. “This level indicates – well I’d say this means he hasn't moved or been moved other than last night of course, in approximately nine weeks. There are areas where you can see disturbance, but I’d assume that’s from last night.”

“Yeah we, uh we didn't have enough time to give him a clean, to be honest we thought it might be a bit intrusive,” Markus sounds apologetic.

“You got all that from some dust?” Hank sounds impressed, and Connor feels familiar warmth spread. Hank always referred to it as ‘preening’.

“Yes Hank, my sensors are highly sensitive,” he replies, smiling. He finally stops dusting the other android, satisfied that he’d removed as much as he could.

“Is there anything I will need to know before we wake him up – I mean from stasis of course,” he adds on. He wants to once again make it clear that forced deviation is a last resort.

“Yeah, there’s some information you should probably know prior. We were told that they had initially planned for multiple RK900 units to be made…I really hate how that sounds, but anyway they only made one. Going from originally planning production to be in the hundreds to then only making one? Well – it sounds really suspicious,” Markus’s expression is troubled.

“Yeah that sounds real shady. Think they’re hiding more androids?” Hank asks, eyes still on RK900.

“Trust me, if they are then we’ll find out. I'm hoping Elijah Kamski will be more co-operative than Mr Graff.” Hanks eyes flick to Markus as he mentions the former CEO.

“Kamski? I wouldn't bet on him being less shady, seemed like a dick when we met him. Uh did Connor ever tell you about that?”

“He did. We’ll be taking precautions with Kamski, don’t worry,” Markus replies, smiling.

“He’s certainly elusive. It’s wise to be cautious,” Connor adds. He’s still finding it hard to look away from RK900; it’s like looking into some sort of warped mirror. He’s anxious.

“Right, anyway shall we get started? You mentioned you’d been thinking about this, so I'm presuming you've got a plan?” Markus asks.

“I’d like to wake him using standard voice recognition. I’ll talk to him, explain a few things. If he accepts, we can interface in order for him to gain more clarity as to what has happened and who I am. If he wishes to then I will then ‘wake him up’ as you say,” Connor says, running through his subtasks.

“How do you even do that? It’s not something any android can do right?” Hank asks, running a hand through his beard.

“I am not certain. The only android capable of forcibly deviating others are myself and Markus – it is perhaps due to our RK status?” Connor muses.

“Oh shit right, you’re an RK too,” Hank hums. 

“Yes, and personally made by Elijah Kamski. Connor was also designed by Kamski so maybe it’s something extra that he added,” Markus adds. Hank sniffs.

“Which doesn't help his ‘shady-as-fuck’ status.”

“No, it does not,” Markus replies, smiling slightly. 

“Hank I would like you to leave the room,” Connor speaks abruptly, and Hank turns a carefully blank expression towards him.

“Wanna tell me why?” he asks. Connor reaches into his pocket and begins to trace the corners of his coin.

“If – if RK900 is indeed violent, I would prefer you to be out of the vicinity. Also, I'm not sure if this is the correct wording, but this feels very personal? If it goes to plan then I would love for you to join, however at the moment there are too may unknown variables for me to feel,” he ponders the correct word “safe. Yes safe. I’d prefer you out of the way, in case there is any violence.”

There’s a silence as Hank seems to think. He finally sighs.

“I'm not happy about leaving you with someone who might attack you Con, I'm not going to lie,” Connor opens his mouth to interrupt, and as though sensing this Hank quickly continues “ _but_ I get that this might be personal. So yeah, I’ll leave the room – I'm staying right outside though, and if you need me just shout and I’ll kick the door down or something.” 

Connor decides not to point out that the room is mostly sound proof, and that the door appears to be reinforced steel, instead smiling. 

“Am I okay to stay Connor?” Markus asks once the Lieutenant has stepped out the room, door sliding firmly shut behind him. Connor nods, gripping his coin.

“Yes. I was concerned for Hank; being a human means he is more…” he trails off, pondering the right phrase.

“Fragile?” Markus suggests.

“I suppose that would be the most accurate description, although I’d not mention it in front of the Lieutenant. I predict he’d take offence.”

“I’ll bare that in mind.”

“Also, you have an ability to preconstruct events similar to my own, meaning if he is in any way violent you’ll be a significant help in restraining him,” Connor continues. 

“Right. Well I'm hoping he’s not, but on the off chance he is do you have a plan B?”

Connor pulls out the re-enforced handcuffs he’d ‘borrowed’ from the DPD, sliding them from his jacket pocket.

“These should be able to withstand his advanced strength – hopefully anyway. It’ll hold him long enough to power him down and to rethink our options,” the cuffs in question he’d tested on himself earlier in the week, shortly after Markus had come clear about his motives (he was very glad Hank hadn't walked in during that particular scenario). No doubt RK900 was stronger (he was an upgrade after all) but they should hold for long enough, they’d been designed with androids in mind after all. 

“Should we put them on before we wake him up?” Markus asks. Connor quickly shakes his head.

“No. I don’t want him to feel like a prisoner, especially when first waking up. I’d like to move forward preparing for the worst, but assuming the best,” he says firmly. Markus chews his lip, appearing to think for just a moment.

“Alright. I'm going to sit over here,” he gestures to the sofa “his full number is RK900: 313 248 317 – 87 so…when you’re ready.”

Connor wait until Markus is sat, before stepping once again directly in front of RK900. He squeezes his coin one last time before switching his grip to the handcuffs inside his pocket. He takes a measured breath.

“RK900: 313 248 317-87, voice command issued: wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a cliff hanger?? Does this count as a cliff hanger?? Anyway, next chapter Nines will be introduced! I'm not even sure which way I want to go, I've planned out two: one violent and one very peaceful so we'll have to see which work better. 
> 
> I set up a Ko-Fi btw! If anyone fancies sending a couple quid my way it'd be amazing (all my money atm is going towards bills so even a couple of quid I could use towards a cup of coffee or chocolate or something would be nice) but no obligation ofc :) it's the Ko-Fi site (kofi . com) /jellfish
> 
> I feel super awkward posting about it tbh cause I hate asking for things especially money, but my partner convinced me to at least mention it (つ﹏◕✿)･ﾟ｡ 
> 
> Not sure ao3's policy on links to that so I'll just mention and not actively link :)
> 
> I'm enjoying writing this a lot tbh, still writing my other fics but this is more relaxing as it's less heavy - had a miscarriage in Oct which sort of destroyed me ngl, so this is just a nice thing to write.
> 
> I don't think anyone is reading this (if you are, hey! Thank you!) I may make a tumblr for my fics - so you guys can ask questions, comment, message privately ect. I'm just put off by the recent tumblr policies, there's a lot of venom there (as it negativity, not Venom aha) - I have a generic blog I look at art and random stuff on but even so I don't want to be deleted because of a flawed algorithm...
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it and if you can think of any suggestions! (◕ ᄋ ◕✿)

**Author's Note:**

> So, chapter one is short (by my usual chapter length anyway) but the gist is there. I'd love to know if you enjoyed it! Also, if you can think of any fun activities or situations for Connor and his bro to do in the future (or anyone really) I'm open to ideas! For example in the not so distant future Connor will be exploring his urge to ride a bike (without downloading software) and will no doubt invite his bro.
> 
> Name wise I'm inclined to Nines, purely as it's widely spread in the fandom and also sort of sensible (in that he is an Android anyway) but if anyone has any ideas/inclinations let me know! This is my first DBH fic and I'm excited to see if anyone likes it aha (◕ᴗ◕✿)
> 
> ALSO importantly was the internal conversation between Connor and Markus obvious enough? I didn't want to include " ..." as I wanted to distinguish that it wasn't spoke aloud, but I know I include italics a lot in my writing for emphasis--I'm hoping that I made it clear enough when the two were speaking but if not let me know and I'll add speech marks (◕∇◕✿)


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